


Of Mercy and Recovery

by RavenShira



Series: The Light to your Shadow [1]
Category: overwatch
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Betrayal, Body Modification, Conspiracy, F/M, Injury Recovery, Medical Inaccuracies, POV Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Slow Burn, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenShira/pseuds/RavenShira
Summary: Angela has grown up her whole life surrounded by heroes. Even though she had learned to fight, she preferred to tend to the injured. Inflicting harm had never really sat well with her, though she saw some as necessary actions to prevent greater tragedies.She thought she knew what she had signed up for, until she got a patient on his deathbed. Everything changed after that.This is a companion story to "Of Venegance and Redemption" from Angela's POV. Both can be read as stand-alone.
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: The Light to your Shadow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699147
Kudos: 6





	Of Mercy and Recovery

Two soft knocks on her door made Angela look up.

“Come in!” She called out, shuffling some papers into a folder as the door swung open. She blinked in surprise when it was Morrison that entered. A familiar but rare guest. Usually he called her to his office if he needed something, so his appearance made Angela still her movements for a moment in confusion, raising an eyebrow in inquiry.

Despite having grown up in his presence, Angela couldn't help but feel a little tendril of nervousness whenever she encountered the Soldier. He was intimidating, but she knew he had a soft heart. Brushing aside her anxiety, she pushed herself up to stand and greet him.

“Jack... what can I do for you?”

“Angela.” He replied, ducking his head slightly in a way she was sure he was aware made him seem less intimidating. In spite of herself and the lingering tiredness of the long day she had behind her, she felt her mouth twitch upwards into a smile.

“There is an emergency. Can you spare the time?”

Already grabbing her things she raised the second eyebrow incredulously. Usually, he didn't do runs like this to inform her of any kind of emergency. But maybe he had already been passing by and he _was_ a fast runner. Her rooms weren't far after all.

“Is that even a question you need to ask anymore?” She questioned, a hint offended but at the same time amused and fond as she strode over to him, where he was holding the door open for her.

  
“What's the condition?” She asked as she ran after his back, clutching her emergency case to her chest. Her Nanobiotics had saved many a life, her own included. Hopefully it would be enough to save whatever poor soul had the misfortune to need her skills. She didn't often heal scraps after all.

“Young japanese male. Deep and old injuries that have badly healed and apparently infection has set in. He's beyond normal help.”

Not quite as detailed as Angela wished, but enough to have a vague idea of what was waiting for her. She pushed ahead, already seeing the commotion and entering a state of mind to take charge of the situation. She brushed past Soldier, entering the emergency care unit and didn't hesitate to set to work. Later she would let the horror set in at the condition of the patient. She had seen a lot in life but...

Some things, some pictures would never leave her for life, and the young man lying on the operating table would be one of those times.

She set to work, determined to save the life that had been entrusted into her care. And she would. Even though in the back of her mind a small voice whispered... would he even want it...?

ଘ(੭*๑･ ᵕ ･๑)੭\\\ ̀ˋ  
  


It was only after several hour of surgery and painstakingly cleaning the festering wounds of her patient that Angela finally allowed herself a break. As she slipped into her office, her hands went through the motions of making herself a coffee to shock her wavering system back awake. Her day was far from over, no. She had done what she could for now, but treating a patient didn't stop at day one. Clutching the hot cup close to her chest, she carefully sat down in her comfortable office chair. It squeaked quietly, something she always promised herself to fix but never found the time to get around to it. She sipped a little from the cups edge, hissing as the scalding coffee burned a little and then putting the cup aside on her table to grab the files that her assistant had placed there.

“Genji... Shimada.” Japanese, male, age twenty-three. Lived in Japan his whole life, from the looks of it and disappeared about half a year ago. He was declared dead in a fire, which did explain some of the older injuries that had mostly scarred over badly. Old burn wounds, blistered and uneven. Some follow up surgeries might still be able to help some of it, but with the age of the wounds, the infection... it would never fully disappear.

Angela picked up the photograph of a young man with green-dyed hair grinning cockily into the camera. He was in his twenties, unmarred and his eyes carried a certain confidence and cheekiness that was charming and attractive in its own way. Wryly, Angela noted that he looked like he was an active and happy person, full of life, and if his personality matched his looks, then he probably could have had his pick on almost any women. All in all, the picture was a far cry from the malnourished, scarred and broken shell of a man she had just spend hours trying to save from certain death. He had almost slipped past even her abilities.  
  
Her fingers traced the photograph, a twinge of sadness entering her heart at the change that was so obvious to her and anyone who looked at the change between the person of the past and her patients current state. Even now, she wasn't sure if he would survive or not. If the fever that ailed him would break, the medicines starting to do their job? It was a fifty-fifty chance and only time would tell. For now at least she was happy to note that he was as stable as he could possible be.

With a sigh she picked up a pen, her thumb pressing on the end with a soft click as she started to note down the medications she had prescribed and everything else that had happened in the last few hours. She made notes of what to do next, of what could be done to help her patient further, which complications could arise, everything she could think of. She couldn't be there twentyfour-seven after all. She needed sleep just as any regular human, even though she had worked through most of the night once again, but she wanted to ensure the best possible care. He would need near constant care, until he was out of danger and for a long, long while after that. Currently her staff was hooking him up to machines to monitor his state, but she wanted to have her orders down in writing so there would be no mistakes.  
  
It was late at night, sometime in the early morning hours already, when she finally put her pen down and rubbed at her tired eyes. Her eyes squinted to the window where the first rays of the rising sun were shimmering through the folds of the courtain.

She should contact his family. Wouldn't they need to know where he was, that he was alive? She would have to ask Jack, because she wasn't sure who had done this to him. Why had Overwatch saved him? And how? Had he be found during a mission?

Those wounds... they weren't the wounds of someone that had received kind care. No, the young man hadn't received basic necessities and human decenty for... a long while if Angela had to guess. It was impossible to tell how it would affect him, if he survived.  
  
She needed details, then she would decide. Nodding to herself, she pushed away the folders, yawned and stretched. Her chair squeaked again and Angela grumbled. She picked up her coffee, drinking the last cold dredges in a few greedy gulps. With her notes she stood up. One last round to deliver her orders. Then it would finally be time to find her bed and be the regular human she actually was.

ଘ(੭*๑･ ᵕ ･๑)੭\\\ ̀ˋ

Angela had other patients to care for as well. Other agents that came back injured from their missions, civilians that needed care after a disaster or attack, even enemies that had been captured or surrendered. Even so, she tried her best to make time to visit the currently comatose man in his own small hospital room. The room was secured, something she had frowned at, at first, but Jack had convinced her that they didn't know the state of the man's mind and it was for his safety as much as theirs. She had to agree, who knew what state he would wake up in, if he ever managed to regain consciousness.

Nimble fingers typed in the code on the keypad on the side of the door. With a small hiss the door opened, allowing Angela to enter. The sun was setting outside, casting a gentle orange light inside the room. She had picked that room, as it was in the calmer part of the compound, with a good view to the sky and parts of the garden, that rarely any of the combat-addicted people seemed to appreciate. She hoped that the soothing environment would help him, if only unconsciously.

Humming quietly she checked the machines surrounding him. Over the past few days, he had broken his fever and seemed to be on the mend, but he wasn't in the clear by far. Thus machines kept track of his vitals, just in case he recessed back to his worse state.

Afterwards she carefully checked him over herself. Machines were well and good, but Angela had learned from an old-school teacher, who had told her to use her eyes and senses instead of blindly trusting machines and medicine. Something as harmless as a slightly accelerated pulse could be the short forewarning needed to save a life, to react in time with life-saving measures or be too late.

It had become habit, and right now it was a calmer day. So she had the time to indulge herself and properly check her patients over.

She let out another hum of satisfaction, noting that Mr. Shimada seemed stable enough. He had gained some weight from the infusion, even if his cheeks still seemed sunken and hallow, but his skin had regained some color.

“I guess you need a bit more time to recover...” she muttered, not unkindly. “You don't have to worry, it is safe now. Take your time... there is no rush. Just get better. ”

Honestly, if he woke up it was enough of a miracle. She was happy if he was slowly but steadily improving, and happy to encourage him quietly.

Her fingers left his wrist from where she had been checking his pulse for the past minute, going over to the checkboard at the end of his bed and noting down her results as well as noting on the side that his medicine had been prescribed and administered as ordered.

“I have good news for you as well! I managed to find someone for your physical therapy. They arrive tomorrow...” She hadn't wanted to start with any physical therapy – no matter how much he needed it from being laid out without moving for so long – before his fever broke. But now, hopefully, the physical therapist would be able to slowly start things up. She had already send him all the information she could.

Fiddling with the IV-drip, Angela increased the drop speed slightly, eyeing it critically for a few seconds.

“It will do you good, I'm sure. We will start slowly, don't you worry.”

Finally satisfied with her inspection, she decided to carefully fluff up his pillow and gently tucking him back in.

“I'm... sorry. We couldn't find any way to contact your family...” Angela admitted quietly, but instantly perked up, pumping her fist up as if anyone dared challenge her. She didn't want to leave any negative thoughts behind after all!  
  
“But don't you worry! We will keep trying and I'm sure sooner or later we will find them. Overwatch is a big organisation after all! We have resources... and who knows, maybe you will wake up before all these Löli get their act together!”

She chuckled, patting his shoulder gently.

“If I can I'll come back tomorrow. You just rest and get better...”

With that she turned around and left, stretching her aching back and feeling hopeful. If he continued to improve, then he might just make it...

**Author's Note:**

> This is my companion story to "Of Venegance and Redemption", which is basically the same Story from Genji's POV. Both can be read as stand alone :) I hope you enjoy! Leave a comment on your way out, as these two stories are my first time stepping into the Overwatch world with writing.


End file.
